Making her own way
by parinda
Summary: The story is about an Indian girl from a traditional family and how shes trying to make her own path while trying to balance her own needs and wishes and also tht of her parents.
1. Chapter 1

Hey all!  
I actually got up my guts to publish this story! Very much hope u like it.  
The story is about an Indian girl from a traditional family and how shes trying to make her own path while trying to balance her own needs and wishes and also tht of her parents.  
I am posting the same story on meg cabot forums with same user name. So dont think this is not my original work.

Inictionary (the indian dictionary)

shalwar kameez- is an Indian type of dress that consists of a long top and trousers. Something like this-  
...?w=510

dupatta- is just a long length of cloth that goes with the dress

**Making her own way**

Chapter 1

This was so not going to work, thought Mysha as she dabbed more foundation on her face. They had probably seen her picture and would know something was wrong the minute they saw her or hold her parents responsible for lying to them. But her parents had not left her an option. They had pushed her to this last resort! She thought hysterically. It had to work.

Mysha looked at herself in the mirror. Her complexion was now a darker tan. Her hair pulled back in a brutally tight bun that pulled her eyebrows, now chunky dark slashes thanks to her heavy hand with black kohl, arched above her forehead. Her dark brown, fearful eyes lined in dark kohl gave her a maniacal and sinister look completed by her disturbingly dark red lips. Her black _shalwar kameez_ was baggy enough to hide her petite, slender shape. Mysha hunched her shoulders and closed her eyes to send up a prayer and prayed that her plan would work.

_Like God's gonna help you commit this atrocity?_ whispered her conscience. Mysha ignored the voice, pushed all doubts out of her mind, straightened and walked out of her room.

Her bent head and face covered with a _dupatta_ she entered the living room. This had to work.

The whole family was present. Her parents, younger brother and them. The family who had come to see her with their son in tow. The son who according to her mom had a Masters in Computer engineering and was a good son. _Like I want a mamas boy_, sniffed Mysha to herself. They wanted her to marry this boy, because that is what he was to her. A nameless boy who wanted to marry her without learning about her hopes, dreams, and soul. Well it was not going to happen.

Mysha walked towards the love seat that was situated in between the sofas that were occupied by the two families on each side. She felt their eyes piercing through her head covering, trying to see her face beneath.

Her mom laughed and said that her daughter was a shy and delicate creature. Mysha snorted. She mentioned a few more of my accomplishments in the kitchen and with the home decorations. Nowhere in these accomplishments where present my Bachelors with Magna Cum laude degree. Who cared about that? If she was gonna spent her life feeding her precious husband, his family and his babies. Mysha wiped her sweaty hands on her _kameez_ when her mom told her to serve tea. Of course to serve tea she would have to lift her dupatta. She didn't want to risk injuring the boy with hot tea when she stumbled to him with it.

Mysha took a deep breath, turned her back to her parents. She slowly raised her dupatta and gave the boy's parents a maniacal grin. She swore she heard the mom suppress a screech but she kept her eyes on the boy who had gone bug eyed.

Mysha's maniacal grin widened. This was going to work after all.

I know a little short but I am setting up the background. I will post the second chp in the next few days. Please review! Its my bloodline rt nw


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

And it did work. In a horrible, horrible way it did.

After the boy's mom had screeched again and pushed upright to her feet (all that weight needed a lot of pushing) she yelled at my parents for lying to them. Telling them they had told her that their daughter was fair skinned and beautiful when she was not, the mom screeched.

"… and her eyes are squinty and crossed", continued the mother glancing at Mysha. Mysha scrunched and crossed her eyes a bit more.

"Girls stand in line to marry my son. You think I would let him marry this? Is that why you lied so you could fool us by hiding her under the _dupatta?_ Well, its not going to work!," went on the mother.

Mysha uncrossed her eyes a little and glanced at the son to see what would impress so many girls. He was pretty skinny with a dark mop of hair parted exactly down the middle and an adams apple that kept on bobbing as he starred at her with his black bulging eyes. The father looked very much like the son and was quivering on the other end of the sofa.

Mysha crossed her eyes and slowly turned sideways to view her parents from the corner of her eye. During the whole interaction she had given them her profile which was not much as her _dupatta _was still covering her head.

Her parents she noticed were on their feet also now. They looked confused at the mother's accusations. Mysha's mom asked her that she didn't understand what was wrong with her daughter. Her daughter was beautiful and talented. Mysha smiled a little. The smile died when the mother of the boy grabbed Mysha's hand and turned her fully towards her parents.

"Beautiful? She is not at all as you described her", she screamed. Sheesh. Mysha poked a finger in her ear to check if any hearing was left then looked at her parents.

Her brother and father starred at Mysha in horror, with mouths agape. But her mom after getting over the initial surprise, looked at her with her too knowing eyes with disappointment and sorrow.

That was the look that pierced Mysha and made her want to crumble at her moms feet and beg for forgiveness.

But she had made her bed and now she had to lie in it.

Mysha looked out the window of the train as the scenery zoomed past. She was on her way to New York. She had gotten her wish to not marry but pursue her Masters degree in Architecture at City College.

Her mom that awful night had told her that if she so wanted to pursue her education and career she could. She will never again be asked about her marriage plans. She was now free to do whatever she wanted. Mysha still flinched whenever she thought about that night. The next few months of summer had been agony trying to avoid the looks of disappointment from her parents and disapproval from her relatives who had found out about her act of defiance or dishonor as they called it.

The only question her mom had asked after the fiasco had been - why? Mysha could have told them that she didn't want to marry the boy and they would have found someone else. But that was the thing; Mysha had explained she didn't want to marry _anyone. _ She just wanted pursue her career. Her mom couldn't understand that. Good Indian girls got married and took care of their kids and husband. A working wife and mother still carried a stigma in their community. The only reason to work was because you were poor and your husband couldn't provide for you. A girl didn't work just for the heck of it.

Her mother had never understood Mysha's need to achieve and make a difference, no matter how small, in the world. She blamed her father for spoiling their only daughter by filling her head with big dreams and hopes. She had hoped in time Mysha would mature and accept her place in life.

"…but that is not to be I guess", her mother had said with those sad eyes.

Her "freedom" had come with a hefty price and Mysha decided then that she would try to make her parents happy and proud of her again. She was going to hunt down the best Indian guy and make him fall madly in love with her. She would marry him and be the best Indian wife there ever was.

By the time the train reached New York Mysha had worked out the whole plan of finding THE Indian guy.

She was in New York! She told herself as she got off on the crowded Penn Station. The city where everything was possible. The city where dreams and wishes came true. She would make her parents proud of her she thought again with a wide smile as she walked into the crowd with her heart full of hope.


End file.
